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Nolin practicing his dunks with our neighbor

So much like parenting, work has been crazy.  I am preparing for the busiest time of the year for me which will also put me at home for I believe 2 nights in the next 18 days. I am still trying to catch up on our Costa Rica trip, but I figured that I would take a moment out from those adventures to detail “the event” from this weekend which really opened my eyes to what it means to raise a boy.

Friday night we were going to a fundraiser at Jenn’s school, but it appeared that Nolin was starting to catch Jenn’s cold from earlier in the week.  Rather than unleashing the plague on several unsuspecting families we figured it would be better if Jenn and her mom went and the boys stayed at home.

Besides a very active nose, there really were no signs of the sickness.  So after putting together several puzzles, emptying out the tissue box (to the tune from The Wizget em on out, get em on out, get the boogies on out cha nose) and watching Thomas get derailed off his figure 8 train track numerous times, I figured it would be a great idea to take a walk to the park.  No need for a stroller, we were just going to be a dad and his son walking down the street to go on the slides.

As we got about 200 feet from our house, Nolin got ready to take off.  Before he started he took a look at me and smiled.  With the custom “be careful” greeting from me he took off.  He only got three steps before he hit a crack in the sidewalk and fell.  This was by far one of the easiest falls I have seen him take, so when he didn’t get up immediately laughing I knew something was wrong.

A reenactment of the fall…actually this was really more just practice.

As I picked him up, he started crying and then the blood came.  Nolin had a fight with the sidewalk and the sidewalk won.  He got a nice road rash by his eye, down his cheek and to his lip.  I quickly began hurrying home as I knew this was not one he would shake off in 30 seconds.  But within a minute the crying stopped.  We got home, and he immediately asked for Pizza…well I wasn’t going to deny him that.

I felt bad that his first face altering injury happened on my watch, but I also learned that in raising boys, these things are probably more traumatic for the parent.  I also realized that this will be one of many cuts, bumps and bruises on his way to becoming an adult.

Shortly after getting his face cleaned up and giving him his fill of pizza (and anything else he asked for), he began running around saying “You wanna see what I can do” as he would climb on a box and jump off all while laughing hysterically.

This didn’t make me too comfortable as I kept overlaying his voice saying You wanna see what I can do with an image of him as a teenager and realizing that in the future I may be wishing that all his injuries can be fixed with Pizza.

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